Over the Hills and Far Away
by The Lady Massacre
Summary: Inspired by the song, Nightwish. Dramione/Tomione. Hermione marries Tom, but when his true colors show she seeks solace in Draco, her only friend. "No one's perfect. Least of all me." This is their story.


A/n: The story follows the song 'Over the Hills and Far Away' by Nightwish. Obviously I don't own it. I suggest you listen to it though, it's a great song. So I probably shouldn't be writing this, but in my other HP story every frickin character is being difficult. Blame them.

Anyway, this story is unmistakeably AU. I don't know if it really has a specific time line. I tried to make it Jane Austen-esque, but it didn't turn out that way. So, Kings and Queens but things aren't so restricted with propriety as it was in Jane Austen's time.

* * *

_o0o_

_Over the Hills and Far Away_

_Dramione_

_o0o_

_Over the hills and far away,  
he swears he will return one day.  
Far from the mountains and the seas,  
back in her arms he swears he'll be.  
Over the hills and far away. _

_Over the hills and far away,  
she prays he will return one day.  
As sure as the rivers reach the seas,  
back in his arms she swears she'll be. _

_-Nightwish_

_o0o_

"Under the Great King Godric, may we be brave and free,

Under the Great King Salazar, may we be cunning and quick,

Under the Great Queen Rowena, may we be wise and see,

Under the Great Queen Helga, may we love unconditionally.

To Godric Gryffindor, we give our hopes of peace,

that he might bring justice to the weak,

that he bring glory to battle and shame the coward,

that he strike fire in our hearts and our eyes,

that he leave the strategies to the wise.

To Salazar Slytherin we give our success,

that he might bring opportunities once hidden,

that he strike down our enemies and befriend the strong,

that he bring forth cunning and determination,

that he leave morals to the loving.

To Rowena Ravenclaw we give our minds,

that she might bring light where there is dark,

that she fight with words and wit,

that she strike wisdom in our minds and be kind,

that she leave bravado to the reckless.

To Helga Hufflepuff we give our love and loyalty,

that she might comfort us in the darkest nights,

that she might save us from the fright,

that she might give us her love and joy,

that she leave cruelty to the ambitious."

_o0o_

She hated the feeling of being old. Her bones creaked, her hair was gray, she was no longer as, well, slim and youthful as she had once been. Once she had not a wrinkle on her face and a beautiful smile, but now, her eyes were yellow and her hair, oh it hadn't been brushed for ages. It gave her headaches frequently until she bothered to charm it and fix the irritable thing. Her lips were too thin and she had so many wrinkles marring her face. With a withered hand Hermione brushed the journal, her fingers tracing over the grooves in the leather material, admiring it softly. For years she had worked on this journal. When banished she found herself with plenty of time, really, so what better way to spend it that to tell how she had gotten there?

Hermione lifted her eyes to the window, the sun rising over the ocean. She adored this little shell cottage by the sea. She had spent nearly sixty years here. Sixty years alone, her mind slowly giving into madness, until she found something productive to do. Her attention turned back to the journal. It was a gift. For her son, who was no longer the bouncing baby that had been taken from her but an old man who would live much longer, always without her or his father.

Despite the crack of apparition she did not lift her head. She knew who it was. It was the man, now King, who had exiled her and taken her lover and her son. Her husband. Only when he spoke did she lift her eyes.

"Do you wish to leave?" The same, age old question.

"No." The same, age old answer.

"He is dead." The same, age old reply.

"I know." The same, age old admittance.

"What do you want?" The same, age old question.

Hermione smiled lightly, her lips quirked as she stared up at the aging man. He aged better than she, though he was the same age. He looked to be in his sixties. She knew she didn't. She was old, and tired. She simply desired to rest. Her reply was different, when she finally did.

"Give this to my son."

The journal.

He nodded. He would.

He left.

Hermione smiled as she closed her eyes. Time crawled on, the sun rising in the sky and brightening the dusty home. She breathed deeply, rhythmically. A house elf had once resided there but had died so many years ago, leaving her truly alone until her husband visited again. Always the same day, always the same questions. The sea pounded against the shore soundlessly as gray clouds passed, their tears thrumming against the windows teasingly. Her breathing slowed and became shallow. Still she did not move. The sun lowered itself to it's bed, slowly, waiting, waiting, for her to move. She did not. The sun slept and the moon awakened, the skies dark and stars twinkling as they danced alone. The sea calmed. Her breathing stopped. She would not move.

_o0o_

_For my sons. _

_o0o_

I met Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle the night of Harry Potter's and Ginevra, or Ginny, Weasley's wedding. I was sipping on wine and enjoying the company of my date, Ronald Weasley. The two of us were good friends, and though I admit to wanting more in our fifth year, I was too shy to make mention and he was to shy too ask. Thus, friends we remained. We danced and laughed as old friends often do, having known nearly the entire party since my first year at Hogwarts. The Burrow was a bustling home with rooms stacked upon the other rather oddly, it was filled with love and laughter and supported by magic. Honestly, I don't think that house would have survived as long as it did without it.

The Weasley's lived at the Burrow. They're purebloods, and I wonder if you've ever met them, or their children and grandchildren. I miss them Scorpius, but not as nearly as much as I miss you- and the family you must have surely started by now. As I was saying, they're purebloods but they aren't quite as stuffy as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are about things. They were very accepting of me being a Muggleborn, and I don't know how it is now, but when I was only seventeen Muggleborns were very, very rare. They were treated non too kindly, either.

But Harry Potter and his parents, James and Lily (who was also Muggleborn) and the Weasleys: Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George (twins), Ron and Ginny, they were kind to me where the world hadn't been. I had always been treated terribly at Hogworts growing up, but I soon proved to everyone that, Muggleborn or not, I was a talented witch who could beat them at any challenge, save for flying. I despise heights, Scorpius.

Draco and Tom are Slytherins, and among a crowd full of Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws, they were outnumbered. So, naturally, they were polite. They had only been invited because Tom is a distant cousin to Harry, and at Wizarding weddings, it was only proper to invite family. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was Draco's cousin through Narcissa Malfoy, so he was invited as well. Of course, Harry had expressed to me privately he didn't really want them to come- Draco and Harry had a rivalry and Tom wasn't any better, propriety be damned, but we both knew we couldn't simply ignore them. Tom was a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin and his only heir- he would soon be King. As for Malfoy, they were close to Tom Riddle.

_Now, _I know Malfoy from school; he was in the same year as me, however when I say met I mean outside of school. Malfoy never spared any words to me save for 'Mudblood filth.' I would often fight him and his prejudiced beliefs that Muggleborns are idiots who are worth nothing, after all, I was beating him in every class, was I not? Of course the exception being Defense Against the Dark Arts, as I was never skilled in this aspect. However, everywhere else, I was top of the class.

Oh, wait, I had forgotten Divination. I dropped it in my third year. I find that it's as ridiculous as Muggle fortune tellers claiming to be witches for a knutt or two.

As for Riddle, I had never met him before. He was the same age as me, if only a little younger by a few months, but he looked like a proper gentlemen. Like Malfoy he had impeccable taste in clothing, perfect, aristocratic features, soft gray eyes and perfect brown hair. He was every bit the gentleman that a young girl dreams of marrying. I expected him to be cruel and harsh, him being Slytherin's heir and being personally tutored by the man, but this was not so. No, he was very kind to me, and I believed that he could see my worth past my heritage.

Now don't for a minute think I hate my parents. I love them to death, but in this world Scorpius I had to survive. I couldn't live in both the Magical and Muggle world without consequences, so I had to choose, and I chose Magic. I saw them every summer during the breaks, but they knew as well as I that when I graduated, I would leave them behind so I might live in the world that was bestowed upon me when I was born.

Ron was gone enjoying a dance with Lavender Brown, so I sat alone without a partner. I would laugh when I thought this, but like a Slytherin often and truly does, Tom saw an opportunity to dance with me and he had grasped onto it tightly. He walked languidly over to me, completely relaxed, and asked for the dance. At first, I stared up at him as if he had grown a second head, but he was smiling- and in that smile I saw something I had never seen in anyone else. I can't tell you what it was for I can hardly remember it now, it seems so long ago. But nevertheless, in his smile and his eyes I saw something that made me set down my goblet and dance with him. He kept me close and his rapt attention was always on me.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Tom asked. I nodded.

"Very much so. And you?"

"At first, I was a little bored," he admitted in low tones- it wasn't polite or proper to insult the wedding party, at least not during. I thought him ashamed, and I admit I flushed a little at the thought. "But no longer." His stare became more intense, and my flush deepened. I told myself it was the wine, or all the dancing, but I wasn't convinced and neither was Tom.

"Oh? Might I ask why?"

Tom chuckled deeply, his voice rich and serene. "I find myself dancing with a beautiful woman who outshines even the blushing bride," he gestured to Ginny, "and myself thoroughly entertained. I'm enjoying myself."

"Ah, but what is beauty when compared to ones mind?" I countered. I was feeling very flattered but I did not want to give the man ideas- I'm not the kind of woman who will put herself in a position she might one day regret. I chose my actions and my words very carefully, always.

"So true. I find it difficult to believe that, one with such an exemplary mind, is Muggleborn, but Draco says it is so." He paused and his eyes gauged my reaction. "Tell me, how is it so?"

"You'll find that even Muggles are intelligent, and they passed that onto me. I worked hard for all my accomplishments. I wasn't and never will be hindered by my blood."

"You are ashamed of it?"Tom asked, surprised.

"Never," I defended. "I love my parents dearly, and though I chose Magic, I will forever love them."

"Such foolishness." Tom whispered lightly. "Love. I have never met a woman deserving of such sentiments, never mind my parents."

"I know your stand on all things Muggleborn and Muggles, but I wonder, can there be exceptions to the rule?" I questioned. His lips quirked into a small smirk.

"I'm staring at her." The dance over, Tom bowed, I curtsied, and he kissed my hand, staring at me deeply. I found myself enraptured with his eyes, gray and light, but there was a hidden darkness and coldness to them. If he was so cold, why was he being so kind, I wondered as he left. Draco stared at me, his eyes narrowed in confusion. I was just as confused as him as the reality of the situation hit me. I had just danced with a Slytherin, and the heir to the Slytherin throne at that! I blinked, wondering what was wrong with me, or more importantly, what did he want from me? Slytherins never did anything without a greater goal in mind, especially dance with a Muggleborn. I sat down and sipped on my wine to calm my nerves. I needed to get off my feet, I reasoned.

Ron soon returned to me laughing gayly. His cheeks were flushed from dancing and far more alcohol consumption than my own. He grinned at me and said,

"Mione! Isn't she just wonderful?" He said, gesturing to Lavender, who was speaking with Padma Patil breathlessly. My mood lightened at the thought of Ron's happiness. Ron was a good friend and I wanted him to be happy. Ron wanted a woman to spoil him. Once, he thought I could be that woman, but I wouldn't be. He wanted a large family, and I did not.

"Completely," I agreed. Lavender Brown was nice enough but a bit annoying, much more into fashion than the more practical things, such as book and knowledge. She had expressed how she wanted a family though, she was well suited for him.

"I want to marry her," he whispered breathlessly to me. My eyes widened.

"Ronald!" I admonished, "You hardly danced one dance with her and now you are stricken with love." I grinned as I added, "If I didn't know any better I should think she slipped you a love potion."

Ron laughed. "No, but she may as well have! When do you think is to soon, Mione? Should I ask now? Later?"

"Date her first, I should think her parents wouldn't be very happy if their daughter was suddenly engaged."

Ron nodded. "Right, right, of course. Thanks Mione, you're the best."

"I try," I replied, grinning.

"Oi, weren't you dancing with whats-his-face earlier? The one with ferret?" Ron asked, sitting down. He watched me intently as he asked. I shrugged.

"I did."

"Mione, he's a Slytherin!" He whispered this lowly, the music thrumming over his voice. Only I could hear him. "You know how they are about... About your lot."

I narrowed my eyes. "My lot, Ronald?"

"Well, I mean, you're Muggleborn, and-"

"Is there something wrong with me?" I cut him off sharply. Ron paled beneath my gaze, squirming.

"O-of course not, Mione."

"Am I stupid? Do I stutter? Do I have some unfathomable disease that makes me beneath every one else?"

"No, no of course not! Bloody hell Hermione," He ignored my glare at his words, "You're the smartest witch at Hogwarts, hell you beat the wizards there, 'cept maybe Dumbledore and the teachers. Merlin knows you're better than Snape."

"Professor Snape, Ronald. Thank you. I know I am Muggleborn. The entire school knows it. Everyone here knows it, including Riddle. _He_ was the one who asked _me_ to dance, _not_ the other way around."

"I don't trust him Mione, Prince or not." He paused. "Actually, thats the reason I don't trust him! Nothing good can come of a Slytherin Prince."

I sighed. "You're right. I don't understand it. So let's just drop it alright?"

"Care for a dance?" Ron said, standing. I rolled my eyes. Impudent git.

"Go dance with Lavender, Ron. She's been eying you and sending death glares at me all evening."

His eyes brightened at the mention of her. I grinned. He really was in love with her. Well, I was most certainly happy for him, but I wasn't about to talk fashion with Lavender for his sake. Or wedding plans. I watched as they danced and soon another important male figure approached. I smiled.

"Harry! Congratulations, you and Ginny look wonderful together."

Harry beamed. "Thanks Mione. You enjoying yourself?"

"Of course! My best friend just married and soon, my other best friend will." I gestured to Ron and Lavender who had taken another turn on the dance floor.

"They do look good together. When are you going to, you know, get married?"

I glared at him playfully. "When I am good and ready, Harry James Potter. But not now."

"Alright," he said with a defeated sigh. "I'm going back to Ginny. Talk to you later?"

"Definitely." Hermione stood and sent Harry one last grin before walking out of underneath the tent, away into the brush. She needed some time alone so she could think, or just enjoy her solitude. But already she knew her peace was disturbed- someone was following her. She didn't turn around, she didn't hesitate. She merely kept on walking toward the creek. There was a slight chill in the air as night approached but it was nothing a warming charm couldn't fix. She paused at the creek, lifting her skirts ever so slightly and stepping out of her shoes, walking into the cool stream as it caressed her feet.

She enjoyed the feeling after enduring hours of dancing. It relaxed her aches and soothed the muscles in her ankles. Never turning around, she asked,

"So, care to join me? Or would you rather tell me why you followed me here." She had an idea who it was.

"I think not," Riddle spoke smoothly. "You'll get sick," he commented, when she did not reply. Hermione sent him a flash of a smile as she shrugged.

"I'll be fine. Now, why did you follow me?"

"I wanted to see where you were going." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I snorted. "Nothings ever that simple, Mr. Riddle," I said lightly. "Especially not with the Slytherin folk."

"What of you, enigma that you are?" Tom asked. This made me blink and stare at him with question.

"What do you mean?"

"You may think that this is the first time I've ever taken notice of you, Miss Granger, but you're wrong." He slowly walked forward, like a predator stalking it's prey, and I felt severely uncomfortable in the position I was in. His eyes looked at me hungrily, his mouth set in firm determination. My mouth dried, my breath, once steady, quickened. I stepped back farther into the stream. I didn't feel that he would hurt me, not here and now, but I could see in his eyes the possessive obsession he held for me.

To be frank, it scared the shite out of me.

But still that flicker of something, promise, knowledge, love, it lingered in his eyes and danced like a hidden flame. I held onto it in hopes he wouldn't hurt me.

"I've never seen you at Hogwarts before," I whispered.

"No, you haven't. But you know Draco, and I have eyes and ears all around the school. I have them send me daily reports of you and your welfare, your studies. You've taken on quite the challenge, what with all the classes."

"So you mean to tell me you've been stalking me?" I asked him angrily, hands at my hips. If that was his way of wooing me he needed serious lessons. At that moment, I wanted nothing but to curse him senseless for taking such liberties.

Tom chuckled. "If you choose to see it that way, then yes. You see, when I heard of your accomplishments and your unfortunate blood heritage, I started wondering what made you so different. What made you the exception to the rule. I still cannot find it, though it pains me to admit it. What sets you apart? I've seen your parents Miss Granger, and I find there is nothing so special about them."

He was closer to me now, only one, small movement would have his lips pressed to mine in a compromising manor. If anyone else saw us I would have been mortified, but still I was only angry. Before I could speak, however, he interrupted me."What is so special about you?" He asked. As if I had the answers to everything.

"How is it, that _you_ can you walk amongst us and know more than purebloods who have had magic surround them all their lives? Why can you perform almost every spell thrown at you, what is it that makes you you? You are plain," he says to me, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I scowled. "Your appearance gives nothing of your true self. A plain witch with unruly and defiant hair." He smirked slightly.

"A mane for the lioness. Your eyes are the color of whiskey. You are pale and slim, with much to be desired. Yet you enrapture me so, and I cannot fathom for the life of me why. You are a mudblood, filth, unworthy of the dirt on my shoes- yet you are more talented than some of Slytherin, smarter than some notably insane Ravenclaws, braver than Godric, and," he snarled the word, "kinder than a Hufflepuff."

"I should hate you," He admitted to me calmly. You are everything that I loathe and despise, and yet... I want you as my own."

As he said all this, his voice was calm, his expression blank. He held no emotion, no passion. His words rang true, but there was more to it. More I have yet to understand. Maybe it was true he wanted me, but for how long? After I married him, how long would it take for him to lose interest? A month? A week? And then what- I would lose my life. I narrowed my eyes. "What you said about me- that isn't an observation made in one day. You would have to had followed me for months to gather all that."

He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Astute observation, Hermione. I have watched you for months. I figured that, after a few months, I would have the answers to my questions. But I am no closer. I wish to marry you, Hermione, if you allow me to."

"After all that, you expect me to agree so readily?" I asked in disbelief. "I'm not the type of girl to mistake stalking someone for romantic notions. I'm not the type to fall in love after meeting you only hours ago. Give me a kiss, it doesn't matter, because I don't fall so easily. You may be handsome, Riddle, I'll give you that. But I won't swoon. You can whisper words of sweet nothings, give me promises you won't keep, and make my heart feel a flutter. You can fake desire, you can fake love, so that I might fall into your hands. But I won't. It doesn't change the fact that you were _stalking _me, Riddle, and I'm not so easy to catch."

"Is that a challenge?" He asked, his voice light. He was amused. I wasn't.

"I dare say it is," I say in reply as I charm my feet dry, slipping on my shoes.

"And, how long, exactly, will this challenge take?"

I snorted. "That all depends on you, Riddle. It may take a month, or it may take a year. It depends on how... convincing, you are." I turned to him. "Threats will not work in your favor, so I wouldn't try it." I flashed him a smile. "Besides, isn't the chase worth the wait?"

Now, here I was, flirting with a man who desires nothing but the enslavement of Muggles and Muggleborns. I didn't do it for the kicks, I did it because that something, whatever it was, encouraged me to. My life was boring with my books alone, and what with Harry's marriage and the one I suspected to be in soon, I was alone. Luna was great company but had a separate life. I felt that my life would be good with him. As strange, and admittedly dangerous if he was to go such lengths to learn about me, as Tom Riddle was, I was intrigued. I couldn't help it.

The next day I found myself at The Burrow, occupying Ginny's old room and helping her pack. She was moving in with Harry and the house he had purchased near his parents in Godric's Hollow. I would stay another night before returning to Hogwarts. Early, of course, seeing as it was still very much summer. School would not start for our final year there until the first, and it was July seventeenth. I packed up the last of her bags and sent her off with Harry with well wishes. I yawned as my cat, Crookshanks, weaved himself around my legs, purring softly. I hadn't given the cat much attention lately simply because of the wedding preparations, and Crooks being the jealous creature he was, hadn't liked it a bit.

"Come here, Crooks," I said as I picked up the half Kneazle. He wasn't the prettiest of things and he was rather grumpy, but I loved him just the same. He was my cat.

Mrs. Weasley, hustling and bustling with making breakfast and trying not to cry, much as she had the day before, was in the kitchen. I scratched behind his ear before setting him down again, asking Mrs. Weasley if she needed help with anything.

"Could you get the door, dear?" She said when she heard a knock. I nodded but frowned, wondering who it could possibly be. I opened it, just to see the familiar faces of Tom Riddle, and Draco Malfoy.

I raised my brow at them both, wondering what they could could possibly want now. The party was only yesterday, surely they could have said what needed to be said then? Hadn't Riddle said enough?

"May I help you?" I asked lightly, eyebrow raised in question.

"I was wondering if you would accompany us to Diagon Alley for breakfast. Mrs. Potter, as well."

"As tantalizing as the thought is, dear Tom, I'm afraid I have to decline. Gin's just left with Harry-"

"So? Come with us anyway," Draco interrupted. I sighed. "Fine, just.. give me a moment." With that I closed the door, groaning as it went. I did tell Riddle I would give him a clean slate, so it was only fair that I kept to my word. I won't tell you all the details, Scorpius, of how Tom Riddle wooed me into marrying him. It took quite some time before he convinced me he truly did want me, maybe even love me. He gave me gifts, at first. Flowers, jewelry, chocolates. Still I did not accept him. Any man, I told him, could give a woman trinkets. Flowers, jewelry, and heaven knows chocolate, they do not last forever, and they whisper lies more than anything else in the world. We spent our time together at Hogwarts alone, where he would probe my mind, and I would probe his. Not Legilimancy, but asking each other questions about each other. I found him very likeable, maybe as a friend, but I wasn't willing to marry him just yet.

I would be lying if I said we were perfect together. We got into so many arguments about blood purity and other such nonsense I would leave crying or lashing out in anger, and I wouldn't speak to him for weeks. During those weeks we were both wrecks, and I always forgave him, even if I never said the words aloud. We weren't good together, and yet, we were. I knew by the fourth month I had fallen in love with the man, it made me miserable just thinking about it, because I had sworn I wouldn't. Yes I had given him a clean slate, but, Merlin, he was just...

He had a brilliant mind, Scorpius. Regardless of who he was or what he believed he had treated me differently, and not in the false kindness he showed other students. No, it was him, I'm sure. To this day. He... cared for me. I don't believe he had ever fallen in love with me, no. Tom wasn't... isn't that kind of man, as I'm sure you know. He took care of you and your older brother, did he not? Anyway, he was possessive towards me, grew jealous often, but he did not hurt me or allow anyone to harm me. He protected me. But it was just that that sent me into a rage. I could protect myself, I reasoned, I didn't need anyone to protect me. I wasn't a 'thing' he could keep locked away, either. I refused to be, But Tom is a stubborn man and fights tooth and nail to get his way, it was unfortunate for him he had chosen me as his wife.

In the beginning I had hoped that I could perhaps convince him that he didn't want me, that I was a puzzle too easily solved and there was nothing to fascinating about me. But he only came back for more. Each week we would go to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley to spend time together. I was Head Girl and could ask anyone to accompany me out of the castle, sneaking away was relatively easy. As time passed and I learned more about him, I knew he was a dark person. He was much like Salazar and wanted to kill Muggleborns. 'Except you,' he'd say. 'Because you're mine.' I hated it when he said those things. I hated him for it. What made me so much better than them? I would ask. I had forgotten that it was the very same thing he had asked me all those months ago. He would chuckle and say simply, 'You're Hermione. They're not.' I hated that answer but I could never argue farther because he would silence me with a kiss. Tom could be very romantic when he wanted to be, Scorpius.

And I loved him for some reason. Some stupid reason I couldn't place, and sometimes I would think, 'It's because he's Tom. And he sees me for who I am.' But that's a lie. Harry, Ginny, Ron, The Potters, the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus and Tonks and Teddy and so many others- they knew me, had known me since I was this sprout of a twelve year old girl with too bushy hair and too big teeth who was a bossy little swot, who managed things men could not- they knew me. From the very beginning. And Tom didn't truly know me, not like they did.

Tom is, was, will always be an evil person. He treated others so awful I wouldn't speak to him for months, but I always so foolishly went back to him, until I was so tired of it all. So tired of his mental_ ...you're lucky to have me, you know. So plain. So ugly. No one appreciates you as I do... no one else will have you... _and emotional abuse. I hated him for it, because for a while, I believed it. I would draw in and seclude myself from my friends. Missing holidays, missing birthdays... Tom was at his happiest in these moments, because I was totally absorbed in him, because during those times I thought I needed him. I hated him, because he made me feel worthless. He... He made me feel like a Mudblood. *

Don't be angry with him. I forgave him long ago, though he didn't deserve it. Besides, it was your father who helped me through it all. If not for Tom, I would never had seen him in another light.

Draco Malfoy, as I'm sure you know, but please allow me to tell you like I had always wanted to, is your father. Scorpius Alexander Malfoy. That's what I had named you- your father and I... I better stop before I get ahead of myself. After all, this was the whole point of the book, is it not? Why you and your brother were forced to be raised by Tom without a mother, why your father could never come for you, and why I am forced-"

_o0o_

"And what, might I ask, are you doing, young lady?"

A wisp of a girl turned to face him, her almond eyes with rings of whiskey staring up at him. Thin lips pulled in surprise but still a smile, slamming the book she had held shut. She was only twelve, already ready for her second year at Hogwarts. She was slim and pale as well as frail, with the aristocratic nose and cheekbones of a Malfoy, but her lips were belonged to her mother.

"Grandad!" She yelped in surprise but joy. Grandad Scorpius was positively her favorite grandfather, always full of laughs and smiles, whereas her other grandfather was always so stuffy and proper. She flushed, realizing she had been caught in the act of reading a book that wasn't hers. She pushed the journal away guiltily. Slytherins were supposed to be sneaky, she thought with a frown. She made a horrible Slytherin.

"Rosie, I told you," Scorpius began, knowing her thoughts, "You're a Hufflepuff, you might as well get used to it."

"But I don't-"

"Now now, there is nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff. It just means you're incredibly loyal and just."

"Yes but, everyone else is! You, Uncle Marvy, Grandmum, Mum and Dad, even Henrieta and Jaden! They're all Sytherins. And then there is me, the ugly little girl who doesn't even look like a Malfoy."

"Rosaline Jean Malfoy, don't you dare say such a thing again. You should be proud of your house and who you are- the House of the kind, the caring, and the non-judgmental. The house of the just and the true! How can you hate such a house?"

"Because, they aren't admirable qualities." Rosaline mumbled. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"Did your grandmother tell you that?"

Rosaline flushed a bit. "I... er, well, yes..."

"Don't listen to her, she's an old fuddy duddy." Rosaline's eyes widened in surprise.

"Grandad!"

"What? It's true, and I can say it because she's my wife."

"Grandad, there hasn't been a Malfoy in history who hasn't been a Slytherin. Am I adopted?" Rosaline asked, not convinced. Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"Don't be silly. Now here, look at this photo-" He pulled out an old photo from one of the desk drawers in his office. Rosaline had always liked this place- it was warm and comfortable, where she was surrounded by books and familiar furniture. She turned back to her grandad.

He lightly dusted it with his fingers before handing it to her. Gingerly, the child took it. In the photo there were a few people. A tall blond man- he looked awfully like her grandad, which meant he was Draco Malfoy, her great grandfather. Next to him was a man of the same size. He was dressed in nice wizarding robes, they all were, his lips curled slightly into a smile. His gaze was cold. This, this was Tom Riddle, Uncle Marvy's father. Then... the woman next to him... She gazed carefully at her, taking everything in. She had curly brown hair and whiskey eyes, just like her. She was thin and pale- this was her great grandmother. This was Hermione. Rosaline twisted a curl in her fingers- she was like her. She looked... almost exactly like her.

Rosaline didn't pay much attention to anyone else, aside from Draco. She looked so happy, so genuinely happy to be with him. She must not have learned everything about him then, Rosaline reasoned. He must have hidden himself from her. His true self, at least.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Scorpius asked, taking it from her.

"Very much so."

"Did you know you two share the same middle name?"

"Really?" Rosaline breathed.

"Yes. Hermione Jean Granger. Riddle, later on. You look an awfully lot like her. She was a brave woman, my mother. Not that I knew her, not until I read that journal, but I like to think she was brave. True, she did act a little stupid at times," Scorpius grinned then, "but then again, don't we all?"

"So, she was sorted, just like me?"

"Not exactly," Scorpius relented. "You forget that she was born into a time where people were sorted because of where they were born, not what qualities suited them best. The Founders were a bit full of themselves during those times."

"Oh," Rosaline whispered. She then yawned, tired.

"Now go to bed, Rosie, I wont have my daughter in law yell at me because you didn't make it to the bus on time because you are so tired."

Rosaline sighed and stood in compliance. Before she left, she paused.

"Hey, Grandad..."

"Yes?"

"They did get a happy ending, right?"

Scorpius sighed. Whether Rosaline saw it or not, she was a Hufflepuff. She was so caring, and so loving... it would break her heart to learn the truth. And he could not bear to see the girl hurt.

"Go to bed, Rosie. Love you."

Rosaline frowned. "Night, Grandad. Love you too."

When he heard the soft click of the door, Scorpius ran his fingers through his gray hair, turning back to the journal. She wasn't old enough to read the rest. She deserved to know the truth, of course, but now. She would have to wait, and he would have to lock it up safe until then. He grasped the journal. Well... perhaps he should read it once more before it gathers dust.

o0o

"-to live this life of banishment at Shell Cottage. A beautiful place, but I grow weary of the ocean each day. Tizzy does her best to make me comfortable, but _true _human companionship... I'm slowly slipping, Scorpius, I can feel it. The ache I feel in my heart, missing you, missing Marvolo, It is unbearable. To take a mother from her children... it is a horrid act, and I hope Tom one day pays for it. Dearly.

Your father and I had nurtured a small semblance of friendship in the years I had been married to Tom. He and Tom were close, well as close as anyone can be with him as far as friendship is concerned, but they were nearly always together. At first he and I despised each other, we would constantly throw insults at each other, trying to gain the upper hand.

"_Dammit, mudblood, get off my back! Just because Tom wants you does not mean every other man does!"_

"_Thats a bit rich coming from you! You ruin woman before they can even become one!"_

"_That was a low Granger, but what should I expect, coming from a mudblood?"_

"_To stupid to come up with a better argument, Malfoy? Or are you simply uncreative."_

_o0o  
_

"_Listen you irritating chit, I'm pureblood, I would think I know royal protocol better than you."_

"_That's the problem though, isn't it? You think."_

_o0o  
_

"_Who are you to call me ugly? I'm perfect- blond hair, silver eyes. Every woman wants me, mudblood, even you."_

"_I hate to disappoint you Malfoy but I'm not into ferrets, I prefer males of the human species."_

Then, one day, we finally said enough was enough, and called a sort of truce. After all it was apparent Draco wasn't going anywhere and neither was I. For a while we were cordial at best. Then, we really grew on each other.

Tom hated it. It amused him at first that we fought so much, I had expressed every hateful word I could possibly throw at Malfoy and meant it, so obviously I wasn't about to leave Tom for him. Then we began acting friendly and Tom grew jealous. He had never acted on it, however, because the Malfoys were of a powerful family, and he couldn't afford to lose their support when he became King. Still, I did all I could to appease Tom, because I did still love him. At that time Tom hadn't been insulting me and I hadn't withdrawn from my friends, but when it did, Draco was my lifeline.

Five years had passed and Marvolo was a young lad training in the ways a prince should, and Tom was off in another land as an ambassador. Tom had thought it best to leave me there with Marvolo instead of moving the entire family to France, and Draco had been ordered to stay for my protection and safety. I was so relieved, I had revealed to Draco later that night, that he had left. Draco, who had been unaware of my depression, was shocked.

"Relieved? You're husband's leaving for France-"

"I know. I'm grateful."

"You shouldn't say things like that about your husband, you know."

"You shouldn't be spending time with your best friend's wife alone, either," I shot back. I sighed. That had been more vapid then I had intended.

"Listen, Draco, it's just that... He..."

"He what?" Draco narrowed his eyes. "Has he been mistreating you?"

"Of a sort... I mean, Tom would never harm me physically, or curse me, but..."

"What has he done?" Draco demanded.

"He... tells me things... things I haven't heard from even you. It's so much worse Draco. When you had insulted me, I blew it off. It didn't matter because you didn't mean anything to me, no offense,"

"None taken."

"But he, the man I love, makes me feel worthless. Like I am a Mudblood. That I'm nothing."

"You shouldn't have to have to go through that, Hermione."

"But what can I do?" I asked him desperately. "You know how Tom is, he lets no one stand in his way." My voice softened to a whisper. "Not even you."

I knew his thinking, where it lead. We had both come to the same conclusion.

Draco clenched his fist, in anger desperate for some sort of answer. He couldn't go to Salazar, the old king despised me and wanted nothing more than to see me dead. He only allowed Tom "his toy" because he thought he would be done playing with me soon, but it's been five years and we were still married. He couldn't go to his family, and he certainly couldn't go to the other Kings and Queens about this. It was internal problems, nothing that effected the others outright, so it would be seen as an act of treachery. He was stuck. He couldn't challenge Tom to a duel, Tom would defeat and kill him hands down. There was nothing he could do to defend me.

"I can't say it will be alright," Draco said honestly. "But... I'm, er... here." I smiled up at him and held him close for a moment.

"Thank you." As you might suspect, our lives took a drastic turn. Draco, Marvolo, and I could be seen often together in and out of the castle. Draco never took his eyes off me, he made sure both me and my son were safe. He had always done that, especially after Tom had left. We grew closer with each passing day, understanding each other more and more. Each day, I was slowly slipping, I was slowly falling in love. It hadn't taken that long, admittedly. I had been yearning some comfort and companionship for some time, and Draco gave me what Tom promised no one else would. He gave me love.

You weren't conceived that night, or many nights after. A year or so passed and still Tom did not return. All the servants knew of our affair by then but they were paid a good amount of money each month to hold their silence. Besides, we made it clear that Tom would probably curse them in his anger, and above all Slytherins had a mind for self preservation. No one spoke of anything near Salazar either, Merlin knows how he wanted me gone. I had given him the perfect opportunity to keel me off without angering his heir. He did not know it, however.

Oh, how Draco made me happy, Scorpius! He made my heart soar with the mere thought of him, my head feel light and how I just wanted to fly! He showered me with kisses and love I had never received from Tom. None of those feelings had been aroused from the thought of Tom. I did love him, but he was not the best I could have. Draco was. Draco sometimes blundered when he expressed, or at least tried to, his love for me. I didn't want eloquent words though, I didn't want lies. Eloquent words and lies, they had made a strong woman weak. With Draco's strength I was reborn, and I realized that I was worth more than Tom had ever expressed. Strange, that it was the man who had called me Mudblood since the beginning of Hogwarts, who showed me that, compared to the man who had never uttered those words at all.

Eventually Tom did in fact return, and I could no longer spend as much time with Draco as I wanted. Tom had wanted me then and there and I was forced to succumb to him and his will. I watched as Draco left with anger in his eyes, and I felt my heart breaking. The next day, I learned I was pregnant. With you.

"Draco?" I had asked him one night. We were lying next to each other on the floor by the warm fire, covered only with his robes. He lightly played with my hair and turned to me, a slim eyebrow raised.

"What if... what if in some alternate time, where we could be together... without Tom, without Salazar, without our blood... would you have loved me?"

Draco hesitated. I knew not his thoughts but I could see the answer in his eyes. "Yes." he breathed. I smiled.

"Let's pretend we're having a child. A boy," I said. I closed my eyes. "I want to imagine it. What our lives would be like." I could see it. Us, in a home away from everyone and everything, with a long rolling hillside where our children could play forever. Where we would be happy. "What would you name him?"

Draco, in an indulgent mood, said, "Scorpius. Without a doubt."

"Scorpius," I murmured, tasting it on my tongue. "I like it. Scorpius Alexander Malfoy."

"Alexander?" He asked in question.

"My father." My eyes flew open. "Do you mind?" Draco sighed, his hands running down my cheeks to my breast.

"No."

"Do you miss him?" Draco asked eventually. "Do you miss your parents?" I closed my eyes again, imagining their faces. So different than me, yet so much the same. I miss them. I love them.

"Every day."

"Would you ever choose magic over them?"

"Some days, I wish I did. Some days I wish I married a Muggle and had children who would never know their heritage. Just so I can see them again. But I'm glad I didn't."

"I don't think I could make that choice," Draco said honestly.

"You won't ever have to." I replied softly. We lapsed into silence again and I absorbed his scent. He smelled like sandalwood and vanilla, a heady musky scent that I adored. Tom smelled like parchment paper and magic, pure, raw, magic. I realized then that if Tom ever found out, we would likely die.

I prayed to Merlin he would not.

My prayers went unanswered, or ignored. It mattered not because, when I learned of my pregnancy, I had to tell Tom. Draco wouldn't let me, but what were the chances the babe would look like Tom? Slim to none, I knew. I had to tell him before the baby was born. Draco was elated, but also afraid. Tom wouldn't take the insult lightly, and it was probable that, when he learned of my pregnancy, he would be killed- as well as myself. Still, he agreed that it had to be done. Draco went off somewhere, to do something, I don't know.

"I'm pregnant," I told him that night. My eyes were closed and I looked away from him. I could feel his stares. They bore into my soul, and I could feel nothing from him. He wasn't happy, or sad... but it seemed like he was waiting for me to continue. Silence filled the room. I didn't say anything more.

I didn't speak to Tom again for three more days.

I spent those days with Draco and Marvolo. I adored Marvolo more than anything, and Draco seemed to be fond of him as well. Sometimes I thought he was pretending that Marvolo was his child, who had striking similarities to me, that he was ours and there need not be mention of Riddle. The last night we spent together, I slipped out of his quarters and into my own. Tom was nowhere to be found, and neither was Marvolo.

They were gone. Where had they gone, I wondered? Where could they possibly be, why had Tom taken him away from me? I had my answers soon enough. Tom came to me, not with Marvolo, but with Tizzy and an empty trunk.

"Pack your things," he demanded.

"Where is Marvolo?" I asked him, taking the trunk.

His eyes narrowed at me, eyes flashing in anger. "Pack your things," he gritted out.

"Where is Marvolo?" I asked him again, determined. I needed to know where my son was. I had to know.

"_Listen you _filthy _mudblood _whore," Tom lashed out, waving his hand. I fell back at the force of his magic, colliding with the wall. I gasped in pain. "Pack. Your. Things. Before I kill you and that bastard of a son, or that bitch of a daughter, you have in your womb."

I didn't argue with him or press him. I knew it would endanger me and my baby's life, endanger your life. So I did as he bid me too, and he took me to Shell Cottage. There I remained. When you were born I had only the help of Tizzy. I wished to Merlin or God that Draco would come, but he had been imprisoned the night I had been banished and my wand broken. I had no one, no one but Tizzy. On year later, on the anniversary of my banishment, Tom came and took you away. I still think of you as that smiling boy, Scorpius. You looked just like your father. I cried for days and weeks, and I wished beyond anything that I would die, but I lived on. Three years later I learned of Draco's death. These last years of my banishment, I dedicated myself of writing down these events so you would know. I knew as time went by you were getting older, and that Tom might have raised you against me, but I had hope that you would still be that boy, deep down. A foolish wish.

I'm dying, you know. My bones ache and my heart is weak, and without my magic I am nothing. But the thought of you, my two boys, keep me going. I will not die until this book rests in your hands, Scorpius, or you, Marvolo.

Marvolo, despite all this, despite my growing hatred for your father, I loved you. I still do. I think of you both every night before I go to bed, and I think of you after I wake. I can only hope you grew to be more of a man than your father was, but know this, I still love you. I am still proud of you.

Marvolo, your father did give me a bit of happiness in the time we were together. My love for him was different, and undoubtedly unhealthy, but I was drawn to him. But the greatest thing he gave me was you. Forgive me for cheating on your father as I did, and please, understand, no one is perfect. Least of all me.

Scorpius, your father gave me back hope and joy I had forgotten. I wish I had loved him longer. But I don't wish I had never loved him for all. I'm proud of you.

I love you, Scorpius. I love you, Marvolo.

_Hermione Granger._

_o0o_

The room was quiet. It no longer held the warmth it did. It no longer held the same laughter. Scorpius Malfoy was dead. They were all grieving, Rosaline knew, but she wondered if they were grieving for the man he had been, as she was, or for the man they believed him to be. It didn't matter anymore, though. He's gone.

Rosaline wiped her eyes with a tissue, looking around his office. Eventually, his things would be moved to the attic, or left here to gather dust, and she knew the door would be locked. After this, though, she never cared to step inside the room again. Her grandfather, in his will, stated that there was something for her in his office, in one of the drawers. It would open, it said, once she was an adult. Graduated only days before, she knew she would be allowed in, but she wondered what her grandfather left for her. Only one way to find out, she reasoned to herself. Rosaline opened each drawer. A few had assorted knickknacks or wrappers of Muggle candy, but there was one that held a dusty old book. On top of it was a letter.

_Dear Rosie,_

_I assume I am dead, if you are reading this. I knew I wouldn't last much longer in these coming months, but I'm glad I had the time to write this down. First, let me tell you how proud of you, a HufflePuff, to graduate. Valedictorian, too! See, I told you your house was something to be proud of._

_Anyway, I give you this journal because you deserve to know the truth. Your uncle, Marvolo, hadn't really appreciated the truth of things but gradually he had grown to accept it. And the reason I never allowed you to read it before is because I did not want your heart to break. But now, I think you are mature enough to read it. _

_When I read this for the first time I believed my mother to still be alive. I demanded the location of Shell Cottage from Riddle, but when I reached her, she had passed away. She is buried there. Here is a picture, if you ever want to go there. She died peacefully, Rosaline. And you know, sometimes at night, you find a set of footprints. Small, but soon joined by larger ones. I imagine my father and mother are only too happy to be together once again._

_I love you Rosie. _

_Scorpius._

Rosaline stared at the letter, and then turned to the picture. A beautiful cottage... Rosaline closed her eyes, just to see if it was true. She felt the familiar pull of apparition, the book and letter close to her heart. The sun was just setting beyond the horizon, casting a beautiful orange glow. The young woman looked around her for the Cottage and soon found it. She began the long trek to the cliff, when something in the corner of her eye stopped her. There- it was transparent, but there was something...

She analyzed it carefully, realizing it was a person. And, more importantly, it was Hermione. Her long hair blew wildly with the winds of the sea, and her arm was outstretched, reaching for someone. Rosaline turned again- a man, dressed in prisoner's clothing, walking steadily toward her. He was beaming at her with love and pride and most of all, joy. They joined hands, and she expected them to begin walking away... but they didn't. They waited, talking and laughing with their silent words, soon joined by another ghost. Rosaline gasped, tears glazing her eyes. It was her grandfather, Scorpius, and he was staring right at her. He was waving goodbye. Numbly, she waved to all three- her grandfather and grandparents, who embraced Scorpius joyously.

She should feel happy, of course, but Rosaline wished beyond anything to be with them.

"Wait for me!" She cried into the wind. They were walking away. No... no no no no no! He couldn't disappear, they couldn't..."Grandad! Grandad! Wait for me!"

He flashed her one last, sad little grin, and gave her one last wave. Then they were gone.

Rosaline stayed there for a while, just watching and counting the footprints in the sand as tears fell from her eyes. They disappeared when the sea washed over them, naturally, but unlike the sand the memory would stay with her forever.

* * *

A.n:

Really long oneshot. And most likely, characters were OOC. BUT. I'm happy with it. *Was inspired/dedicated to/by Ultimate Ratio, whose author I forgot the name of, so please inform me in your review if you know. Also, ending was inspired by another fanfic by another author who was inspired by a move. I don't know the names of any of those three. But I do know it was in the Naruto fandom.

WOOT. FIRST DRAMIONEISH THING.


End file.
